


Burgers...or something.

by ironicpalmtree



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Casual Sex, GTA AU, Hitman Ryan, Lawyer Gavin, M/M, Sorta FAHC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 08:10:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11144373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironicpalmtree/pseuds/ironicpalmtree
Summary: Aka the six times Ryan asks Gavin out for dinner and the one time Gavin asks him.





	Burgers...or something.

**Author's Note:**

> Eyo, here's a short one for ya, I always get my inspiration when I'm in the middle of exams.  
> It's 3 am so forgive the mistakes that I'm sure I've missed.

**1.**

The elevator doors slid open with a shudder and a groan, unceremoniously announcing the arrival of who Ryan assumed was Ramsey’s representative. The apartment door was hanging open on a half-broken hinge and the gang member stepped cautiously inside.

Ryan was slouched on the couch, a butterfly knife twirling absently in bloodstained fingers as he watched the other man’s reaction with silent amusement. The room was a mess – a coffee table upturned and lamps snapped in half, water lapping at the grimy carpet as it spilled from the burst pipe in the kitchen. Several people lay slumped on the ground, congealed blood forming grotesque halos around their heads.

Eyebrows rose above a messy fringe, green eyes widening as the young man scanned the room. “Right then.” He huffed out, reaching up to adjust the lapels of his expensive suit. Ryan shifted slightly at the delightful British accent, turning to fully face the new arrival.

“Free.” The Brit stated primly, walking forward with his hand stuck out in front of him, “Ramsey’s lawyer.” He balked slightly as Ryan lifted a palm dyed in crimson.

“I’ll have to politely decline.” Ryan drawled, grinning under the mask as the other man flushed in embarrassment. Ryan stood, casting the Brit in shadow as his hulking form blocked the light from the dirty window.

“I’m here to verify the job was done” Free’s voice remained surprisingly steady as he met the blank gaze of Ryan’s mask while he rooted around in his pocket. He made a vague gesture at the gruesome scene surrounding them before pulling out a crisp white envelope with a flourish. “I’d say it’s been satisfactorily completed.” White teeth flashed before the cheque was pressed into Ryan’s chest.

Ryan raised his hand slowly (the one not bathed in blood) and took the envelope, fingers brushing lightly along Free’s exposed wrist bones. Dark eyes flickered upwards, glittering with promise.

“I’ve got some cleaning up to do.” Ryan murmured, pausing at the good-natured snort let out by the Brit. “But do you have any dinner plans?”

Free smiled faintly, pulling away from Ryan’s soft hold and backing towards the door. “I’m afraid dinner isn’t in my job description, love.”

Ryan tried not to let his shoulders slump at the rejection, turning instead to begin the process of wiping away any traces of himself from the crime scene. Ramsey’s lawyer was gone by the time he turned around again, but a gold-bordered business card rested neatly on a half-broken end table.

‘ _Achievement Industries’_ was embossed in black, glossy print above a mobile phone number. There was a message scrawled in messy handwriting that was immediately characteristic of the young Brit.

_I do make an exception for midnight callers…_

**2.**

The holding cell smelt like piss and cigarette smoke and smeared across the opposite wall was something that looked suspiciously like a shit stain. Ryan sighed, adjusting his stiff back against the cold (and decidedly cleaner) other wall.

His handcuffs jangled as he moved, reminding him for fiftieth time of the pathetic situation he found himself in.

Out of all the crimes the Vagabond had committed and they got him on a traffic law violation.

The cell door banged open and Ryan forced himself not to jolt in surprise. He scowled up at the burly cop but put up no resistance as he was dragged to his feet.

“I was napping.” He complained, wincing slightly as he shuffled out into the brightly lit corridor. He was rewarded with a sharp jab to the back and a pistol pressing uncomfortably into his side and he wisely decided to fall silent.

That was until they pushed him past the exit, where he was sure a heavily guarded NOOSE bus was waiting to transfer him up to Bolingbroke. He straightened up as he was guided towards the interview rooms instead.

“Why are we going in here?” He asked, tensing when that pistol shoved into his side a little bit more.

“Your lawyer called,” The guard growled out, not bothering to mask the bitter disappointment in his tone, “Started spitting some legal jargon down the phone about your right to a defence or some shit.”

“…Lawyer?” Ryan repeated dumbly as he stumbled through the door. He raised his gaze to find a well-dressed man lounging in one of those cliché interrogation room chairs – it was turned around the wrong way and Ryan couldn’t help but linger on the easy sprawl of lean thighs and the tight cling of his slacks.

“Evening Vagabond.” Gavin chirped, slinging an easy grin at the disgruntled sergeant who sat stiffly on the other side of the table. The Brit tilted his head, sharp eyes flicking quickly all over Ryan’s painted face. “Hard to recognise you when I’m not wearing a blindfold.”

He gave him a suggestive wink and a small, suppressed giggle as the two police officers in the room shifted uncomfortably. Ryan sat down beside Gavin, fixing his guard with a self-satisfied smirk as the lawyer leant forward and steepled his fingers together.

Gavin had a bloodthirsty look in his eye, tycoon smile beginning to play at his lips as he slid a bundle of papers over the table.

“Now, last time I checked, staying in the overtaking lane wasn’t an indictable offense…”

\----

“Why are you here?” Ryan groaned out, gripping tightly at the Brit’s slender hips as he fumbled around with a hotel key card. The door finally clicked open and the pair tumbled inside, Ryan’s mouth already tracing a path down the Brit’s throat.

Gavin made a choked sort of noise, threading his fingers through Ryan’s soft hair and dragging his head up so their lips were touching. “Ramsey takes care of his own.” He murmured, hot breath ghosting over Ryan’s face. “He couldn’t let his top contractor get locked up for a traffic offense, now could he?”

Ryan closed the distance between them, delving his tongue into the Brit’s mouth to chase the taste of mint and whiskey. Long fingers untucked his shirt as Ryan guided them towards the bed and the cotton tee was thrown off as Ryan collapsed onto his back, pulling Gavin with him.

Gavin straddled him, groaning slightly as Ryan thrust up once before turning his attention to removing the other’s impeccable suit. The Brit leant down to suck a hickey into his jaw, pulling back and grimacing slightly at the tacky taste of face-paint.

“Get up for a sec and I’ll take it off.” Ryan growled, pulling a silk tie over Gavin’s head and ripping the buttons off his dress shirt moments later.

“Ryan…” Gavin whined, pouting down at the older man, “This is Egyptian cotton you bastard.” Ryan moved to shift Gavin off him and sit up but a hand on his bare chest stopped him. “Keep it on.” The sultry purr did more things to the hitman than it should have. A thumb came up to brush at the red slashes of paint across his cheeks, “I want you to fuck me with it on.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow, a snarky reply all ready to roll off his tongue. Gavin silenced him with a kiss, teeth catching on his bottom lip as he pulled away. “Stop making fun of my kinks and just bloody get on with it.”

Ryan grinned viciously, flipping them suddenly so that he has the Brit pinned beneath him. He snaked a calloused palm up under the younger’s undershirt so he can rest it on a taut, quivering stomach. “Gladly.”

 

After, Ryan sat against the headboard of the king-sized bed and lit a cigarette, revelling in the burn of the smoke that twisted in his lungs. Gavin sat between his spread legs, back pressed to Ryan’s chest and sex-mussed hair tickling his chin. He held a glass of whiskey in his hands, seemingly mesmerised by the way the honey-coloured liquor glinted in the chandelier light.

Ryan breathed deeply, smelling smoke and sweat and the very obvious stench of sex. He smiled, heavy eyelids fluttering closed as he took another long drag. A loud rumble from Gavin’s stomach broke the silence and they both burst out laughing.

Ryan picked up one of Gavin’s hands, brushing his thumb across well-moisturised skin and manicured nails. “Let’s go get dinner,” He murmured into the younger’s hair, “Burgers or something.” They both glanced at the clock, which ticks over to _11:46 pm_ as they stared.

Gavin sighed for a moment, sinking into the warmth of Ryan’s chest before tensing up and moving away. “It’s late.” He said brusquely, rolling off the bed and collecting his clothes, “I have to get back to the office. Geoff needs me.”

Ryan exhaled, reaching over to snuff out the stubby remains of his cigarette in the ashtray. He didn’t say anything while Gavin redressed, just bit his lip regretfully as all that lovely tan skin was covered up once more.

The Brit paused by the door and gave Ryan one last considering look. Ryan met his gaze and finds something heavy there, something that threatens to spill out and wash away the rest of the world. Gavin leaves with a whispered ‘goodbye’. Ryan says nothing.

 

**3.**

The next time Ryan’s in LS, Ramsey actually invites him to AH headquarters, rather than just shooting him a text with his assignment.

He ran into Gavin not ten minutes after his arrival, or more correctly, the Brit collided with his chest and spilt a steaming mug of peppermint tea down his front.

“Ryan!” Gavin squeaked out, patting uselessly at the giant stain spreading across Ryan’s chest, “What’re you doing here?”

Ryan brushed Gavin’s hands away, taking off his jacket and throwing it over one of the many couches in the waiting room. He smiled fondly as those big, green eyes raise up to look at him and he resisted the urge to learn forward and kiss that tousled head of hair.

“Heist meeting.” He finally gruffed out as the Brit continues to gaze at him enquiringly, “Hired for extra muscle I think.”

Gavin nodded, beaming at him as he gestures down the hall. “Oh yes!” He pointed to the bundle of files nestled under his arm, “I’m just sorting out all the bank transfers and account details for that now.” The Brit launched in to an excited explanation about the multiple shelf companies he’d set up in the Caymans to filter all their heist takings through. Ryan hummed occasionally, laughing as Gavin listed the aliases he’d made up for each business. So what if his grin was a little too wide and laugh louder than necessary? Mark Nutt Accounting and Taylor Jones Investments were just plain ridiculous names for financial firms.

Gavin paused by the meeting room, smile dimming a little as he gestured at the door. “This is your stop.”

Ryan leant against the frosted glass and looked down at his boots for a moment. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and his mind rushed through all the things he ought to say. “I know…you’ll be busy…leading up to the heist,” he began haltingly, risking a glance at the younger man, “But I’m in town for a few days after, we should meet up.”

A lascivious grin started forming on the other’s face and he held up a hand. “Not like that…well I’m not opposed to that… if you’re down with doing it again, just-” Ryan paused for a moment, trying to stop the sudden word vomit he was experiencing.

“Just what?” Gavin had fixed him with an unreadable look, a small frown wrinkling his forehead. Ryan visibly flinched as he stopped himself from reaching forward and smoothing out the skin.

“We should get…burgers or something.” He finished lamely, cringing at the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

Gavin’s silent, searching his face for a sign of _something_ , Ryan doesn’t know what. He felt something cold spread through him when the lawyer’s expression shutters down and his lips press into a thin line.

“I’m busy. I’m leaving the country in two days and I won’t be back till next month.” Gavin stepped back from their clinch and Ryan starts at the loss of body heat. He hadn’t even realised they were so close.

“Oh…okay…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, searching around for the right words. “Well, maybe when I’m back in LS we can…”

“It was just sex Ryan.” Gavin blurted out and Ryan felt something in him shrivel up and die. Probably his pride (definitely not his heart). “I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression but I was just out for some fun.” With that the Brit turned on his heel and walked stiffly away.

Ryan swallowed thickly, something burning in the back of his throat – rejection or humiliation or a combination of both – and he quickly reached for the meeting room door, turning the knob with a jerky motion and ducking inside.

 

**4.**

Fresh snow is beginning to fall as Ryan trudged his way through Middle Park, the white flakes stained shades of red, green and gold as they fell past flashing Christmas lights. Childish laughter and shrieks filter up from the Liberty City ice rink and Ryan gravitated towards it. He rested against the wall, looking down at the clumps of families and couples that skidded and slipped all over the ice.

Ryan reached up to fix his scarf, something aching in him as he watched a teenage boy and girl stumble off the rink, laughing in each other’s arms.

A warm body leant up against him and Ryan flinched away, hand halfway reaching for the gun at his waistband. He stopped as he recognised a familiar navy-blue suit and spiky tufts of hair, now dyed a dirty blond rather than their usual chestnut brown.

“What are you doing here?” Ryan asked slowly, relaxing back into the brick as Gavin turns to him.

“Business, what else?” The Brit stated simply, leaving Ryan to wallow in a shocked silence.

“No.” The older man began again, “I don’t mean in Liberty, I mean _here_.” He gestured between them, letting his hand drop as Gavin pointedly gazed down at the skating rink.

It felt like hours before he finally spoke up again. “You didn’t come back.”

Ryan scowled, already perfectly aware of his near religious avoidance of LS and all that reminded him of his stupid moment of weakness.

“I’ve been busy, long-con…you know the deal.”

Gavin laughed, a huffing noise that isn’t anything like his usually coo and squawk. “Yeah…I know the deal.”

They both turned back to the ice, watching in silence as the snow gets heavier and the Christmas lights blur into smudges of colour. “I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas Rye.”

The Brit looked sheepish, twisting his cashmere scarf between gloved fingers as he glanced nervously up at the hitman. Ryan tried to scowl again, to lash out with hurtful words and drive the Brit away for good. Of course, one glance at that emerald gaze and he was gone once again.

Ryan reached out for Gavin’s hand, grabbing it gently and pulling the Brit closer. “Hey.” He whispered once their noses were brushing, breath puffing in a cloud of fog around them. “Merry Christmas Gavin.”

Gavin was the one to lean in that inch further and press their lips together. Ryan’s whole face flushed with warmth and he wrapped his arms around tapered hips just as the Brit flung his hands up onto broad shoulders.

They broke apart with a gasp and Ryan couldn’t help but smile – a secret little thing that only Gav could see. “It-It’s Christmas Eve. We should go get some food. Burgers or…”

He broke off as Gavin stepped away, that icy feeling creeping back into his chest. Ryan clenched his fists and bit his lip, how could he have been so stupid _again_?

“I can’t Ryan, you-you know that.” Gavin looked torn, a sorrowful expression playing across his cold flushed face as he considered his words.

“I just didn’t want to be alone.” He finally whispered out, shoulders slumping in his dejection. “Not tonight.”

Ryan felt himself soften and he reached out to take the younger man’s hand once more. “Come on. My hotel is not far from here.”

\----

“Ry-Ryan.” Gavin murmured out, eyes closed and lashes fanning out like spun gold on the ridges of his cheek bones.

Ryan moved slowly, one hand holding the Brit in his lap while the other brushed up and down the younger man’s chest. He was addicted to the smooth, caramel skin, to Gavin’s slightly sweet taste every time their lips met, to that fathomless gaze that at times felt all consuming. Ryan felt like a junkie getting his fix.

Gavin moaned lowly, curling in close to Ryan and seeking his lips. Ryan met him halfway, swallowing down the noises as they filtered out and smothering groans of his own.

“Don’t stop…please.” Gavin whimpered out, threading his fingers through honeyed tresses and pulling Ryan’s mouth down to his neck. Ryan deepened his thrusts but kept the same slow, reverent pace that had Gavin melting like putty in his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere sweetheart.” The Brit whined at the nickname, clutching on tighter as Ryan pressed worshipful kisses into his collarbones. “I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

 

**5.**

Ryan groaned in annoyance, banging his hands against the steering wheel as the traffic ahead of him continued to remain at a standstill.

The beat-up taxi in front honked as he inched his Zentorno just a little too close and he flipped the driver the finger out the side window.

Ryan glanced back down at his phone, hesitating for only a moment before unlocking it with one hand.

It was May and his first time back in LS since…since Christmas. Jobs had washed in with the new year; an endless supply of contract kills and merc missions. Ryan had flitted across the country, barely ever out of the airport and distracted enough to ignore the siren song that called to him from the west coast.

He’d been in town a week before he’d got the message. He hadn’t dared text Gavin, afraid of the lack of replies he was certain he would receive. Still, it didn’t stop him from checking his phone every spare moment, entirely aware and entirely ashamed that he was acting like a lovesick teenager.

The message had come in at 2pm this afternoon. An address followed by a three-word request.

_I need help._

Ryan had scrambled for the door, grabbing whatever guns and knives were in reach as he stumbled out of the apartment.

And now here he sat, swallowed by the traffic that perpetually choked the streets of downtown LS. The taxi ahead finally began to move and Ryan groaned in relief, revving the car far too hard as he dropped the clutch.

 

Gavin’s apartment door was slightly ajar when Ryan finally slipped out of the elevator. The creak as he pushed it further open set him on edge and he immediately drew the pistol that was stuffed into his waistband.

“Gavin.” He called out cautiously, flicking his gaze from wall to wall as he inched down the hallway. There was no answer and Ryan swallowed thickly, fighting down the rising nausea that threatened to choke him.

He found him in the living room.

The Brit was slumped by the couch, a silenced pistol clenched in bone-white hands and blood spattered all over the front of a 2000-dollar suit. A dead body lay sprawled in the middle of the room.

Ryan dropped his gun and immediately rushed to the younger man’s side, knees burning as he skidded on the carpet. Gavin sat frozen as Ryan ran concerned hands all over him, brushing against his abdomen, sides and face.

“Gavin! Gavin!” Ryan yelled, reeling back as Gavin lifted his eyes to reveal his deathly pale complexion. The younger man began to visibly shake.

“He-he was waiting for me.” He whispered, so quiet Ryan had to lean in close to hear. “I got out of the bedroom and he had a gun, p-pointed at me.”

“Who is he Gav?” Ryan asked calmly, reaching up to thumb the tears that had begun to spill over.

“I-I shot him.” Gavin ignored him, petrified gaze fixed on the dead body slumped on his authentic Persian rug. “I shot him in the head and chest and he-he” The Brit’s lip trembled violently, “I’ve never killed anyone before.”

Ryan gently pried the gun from Gavin’s grasp, setting it on the floor by the dead man’s head.

“I know I work for Geoff and a whole gang full of killers but I do the paperwork and the sweet talking not the k-ki-kil-”

A raw sobbed bubbled up as Gavin found himself incapable of uttering the word again.

Ryan stood slowly, moving over and beginning to roll the rug up. “Come on.” He spoke quietly, afraid that the Brit would spook at anything above a whisper. “We need to get him out of here.”

\----

Gavin sat silently the whole car ride out to Blaine County, eyes fixed on the road ahead of them and the rain that was rolling down the wind shield. His face was still devoid of colour, other than the occasional smudge of blood on his chin and neck, and his body continued to be racked with persistent tremors.

The Brit flinched as Ryan turned sharply off the road, the body that the older man had shoved in the trunk rolling forwards with a _thump_.

Gavin stood silent as Ryan dug a hole out by the old abandoned airport. Rain was drumming steadily on the hardpacked sand but neither acknowledged it.

He walked off once Ryan dragged the body from the car and threw it in the shallow grave. Ryan could hear the Brit’s horrible retching even through the dull patter of the downpour.

They both slid back into the car around dawn, soaked to the bone and numbed into silence. Ryan turned over the engine a couple of times as it struggled to start in the cold – each time it half-rumbled to life Gavin would jump and his eyes would flutter wildly.

A pink hue was beginning to bleed into the heavy rainclouds by the time Ryan hit LS city limits, staining Gavin’s face in a ghostly sort of ethereal light.

“Gav.” Ryan broke the silence gently, glancing at the Brit as he shifted down to fourth. The younger flinched before gracing Ryan with a quick glance.

“Gav have you eaten in the past 24 hours?”

The Brit pondered this for a moment, brow furrowing deeply as he threaded his fingers tightly together. Eventually, he gave a minute shrug.

“Okay Gav. That’s alright. Come on, I’ll take you somewhere to eat.”

Gavin shook his head violently at that, pupils blowing out and breaths coming out in shallow gasps. “No, no, no.” He kept repeating, looking at his palms before wrenching on the ends of his hair. “They’ll see. They’ll know. They’ll know I’m a – a”

Gavin hiccupped violently as Ryan pulled over and turned the car off. He undid the younger man’s seatbelt and coaxed him into his lap, letting the younger man cling to him and take deep shuddering breaths.

“It’s okay.” He whispered, big hand running soothing circles over the others back. “I’ve got you. It’s alright. It doesn’t matter.”

The early morning traffic began to filter past, but Ryan paid them no mind. He whispered a constant flow of comforting words into Gavin’s ear as the Brit struggled to overcome the blood that now forever stained his hands.

 

**6.**

“Hey.”

Ryan looked up from his phone to find Gavin leaning in the doorway. The office was largely empty at the moment, everyone out on errands to prepare for the upcoming art gallery heist.

Ryan swallowed, locking his phone and stuffing it in his pocket. “What’s up?”

It had been a month.

They hadn’t spoken. Hadn’t seen each other.

Until now.

Gavin looked…alright. Colour had returned to his face and he no longer had that horrible, dead look in his eyes.

Gavin shuffled around awkwardly for a moment, left hand reaching up to fiddle with his tie. “How have you been?”

Ryan gave Gavin a weird look before shrugging and pulling his phone back out. If he wouldn’t acknowledge the elephant in the room than neither would Ryan.

“I’ve been better…” Gavin mumbled out after a moment of awkward silence. “A lot better.”

“Good.” Ryan didn’t quite know what to say. He desperately wanted to go to the Brit and pull him into his arms but he doesn’t. He wanted to brush the hair from his eyes and kiss his temple and ask him how this past month had really been. He doesn’t.

His phone buzzed loudly in the cold silence that fills the room and he broke Gavin’s desperate gaze.

_Pick up Chinese pretty pls :))))) Heist meeting in 30._

Ryan stood up and waves his phone at Gavin. “Geoff wants me to pick up dinner, wanna come?”

The Brit seemed to shrink in on himself and Ryan already knows the answer. “Sorry, stupid question.”

He grabbed his keys off the side table and headed towards the door. He was stopped by a soft hand suddenly clutching at his wrist.

“Ryan.” Gavin pressed his forehead into Ryan’s leather clad back; he sounded utterly exhausted. “Thank you.” He breathes. “God, thank you for everything.”

Ryan turned around to take Gavin’s face in his hands. A chaste kiss is pressed to the Brit’s lips, and they both exhale into each other’s mouth. “I’ve gotta go get dinner.” Ryan mumbled, eyes closed and forehead pressed against the younger mans.

Gavin pulled away from their embrace, reaching to clutch at the older man’s hand. He shoots him a shy grin and takes a step towards the door.

“I’ll come.”

 

**\+ 1.**

“Ryan.”

“Mmm.”

Ryan had his eyes closed, content with feeling Gavin’s heart beat through the point where they were pressed chest to chest.

It was 1pm on a Sunday afternoon and they had the day off. Ryan got days off now that he was officially a part of Ramsey’s crew.

Gavin scratched his fingers through Ryan’s sparse chest hair, pressing fleeting kisses to the sharp points of the hitman’s clavicle.

“I’m hungry.”

Ryan grunted in amusement, shifting slightly so that he had more skin pressed against the Brit.

“What do you want?”

Gavin grinned cheekily, straining up to place sloppy kisses on both Ryan’s cheeks. The older man swats his ass in return.

“I’m thinking burgers…or something.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments etc. always appreciated.
> 
> Thanks for reading yo!


End file.
